


AU!Markiplier x Reader: See You For Myself

by KingOfHearts709



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: AU, F/M, Got me thinking about spec ops for some reaskn, I just saw ride along 2, Implied Sexual Content, Spec Ops - Freeform, Spec ops au????, Suggestiveness, and BAM, idek why i wrote this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5760745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfHearts709/pseuds/KingOfHearts709
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're the best of the best, in every aspect.<br/>But maybe not against a cheeky man with some different plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	AU!Markiplier x Reader: See You For Myself

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, okay.  
> So I have this Markiplier Mission Impossible thing that I'm not done with yet. And I just saw Ride Along 2 (tons of laughs, btw) and I was thinking out this plot like halfway through the movie because it's all cop stuff or whatever and so I wrote it. Enjoy! xoxo

You had one of the best reputations in your Special Ops team. Namely, you could get anyone to talk and get any intel you needed.  
Your reason?  
You were the best persuader, the best looking, and the most intelligent of them all.  
In all your cases, you had accomplished your mission every time. No matter what lengths you had to take. And usually, that ended with you waking up in his, or her, bedroom.  
But you were very stoic about it. It was for the government, to stop illegal drug cartel or gun manufacturing. And you didn't mind if you had to use your body as an asset because that's exactly how you saw it.  
And asset.  
And so your new mission was to get intel about a so-called shipment of illegal narcotics from the US to a foreign country. You had to figure out when and where it was being sent out.  
You remember them saying that there wasn't much information on who you were selectively interrogating, but that didn't mean you couldn't figure it out.  
Fischbach was his name, though. Mark Edward Fischbach. Head of the Fischbach Corp., which, surprisingly, did not sell fish, but high-maintenance electronics, with a small car dealership on the side run by his brother, Tom.  
This wasn't going to be difficult, you could tell.  
“Name?” the bouncer to the party asked.  
“(FN) (FLN),” you smiled, trying your hardest not to just barge through. You had a cover to uphold, and that included your attitude as well as your name.  
“Okay, go on,” the bouncer said, moving aside and letting you through.  
“Alright, wish me luck,” you said quietly into your earpiece. “I'm going on radio silence.”  
“Knock ‘em dead,” your behind-the-scenes man, Vince, cheered. “Uh, but not actually, just, you know, do what you do. Yeah. Good luck.” You heard the connection cut out and you turned off your earpiece. You could do all of this by yourself, but you liked having Vince as backup. The reassurance made you feel a little better.  
The party was so small, you almost thought it could have been a set-up. But Fischbach was a small man, and had a small personality, you assumed. At the least, you hoped it was easily manipulated.  
“Champagne?” a waiter offered, which you took graciously. It wouldn't calm your nerves, but you could fit in easier this way.  
There he was. Talking to someone, probably a business partner.  
“Well, hello,” he greeted once you approached. “I don't think I recognise you.”  
“I'm on a small holiday, and the big man upstairs decided to bring me here,” you said smoothly, with just a hint of mischief.  
“Well, I should be thanking him, you are absolutely beautiful.”  
“I'm much more beautiful up close, you know.” He chuckled, and you couldn't tell if he was confident or nervous. Big business man like him, you'd expect confidence every which way, but with him, you couldn't tell. You had to prepare yourself for surprises, you guessed.  
“I can make you an offer, if you're willing to accept.”  
“Do tell.” You grinned. Now you were getting somewhere.  
“After the party, after all this, I'll ask you to stay, and if you choose to, you can stay. With me.” You bit your bottom lip as you grinned.  
“Sounds like a great after-party,” you smirked.  
The night went on smoothly.  
And the end of the night came.  
You watched from a distance as Mark bid farewell to each guest, some more sincerely than others. And as soon as the doors closed on the home, he turned around.  
“Now that the party’s over,” he said, “it's time for the after-party, right?”  
“Right,” you said, sashaying your way to him. “And, uh, where is this after-party?”  
“Well, follow me and I'll show you.” He looped one arm around your lower back and led you from the front and upstairs, through a few hallways into a door on the right.  
For the mission, you reminded yourself.  
The room had a beautiful two-person bed with lush bedding, and a few paintings of flowers and such surrounding the walls. A bookcase laced the left wall, a table on the other stacked with flowers, paper, and a briefcase.  
The briefcase probably held what you needed.  
“I think I'll enjoy this after-party,” you said as you turned around to him closing the door. He chuckled, loosening the tie he wore and slipping off his jacket.  
“I think you will, too,” he smiled as he kissed you slowly, passionately.  
It seemed you would have to go the whole way this time around.  
Morning rolled over quicker than you would have liked, based on the time that was on the clock above the doorway. You looked around for Mark, hoping he was still asleep or, even better, had left the room.  
“It's good to see you awake, (YN),” a voice said from the side. Mark was there, shirtless but with his jeans on, standing next to the briefcase you needed to search through.  
“That's... My name isn't-” you began, but he chuckled.  
“It's alright, I know who you are. Who you work for, what you do.” You reached for your clothes, and hopefully your concealed pistol. “Too late, sorry. I found it earlier when I woke up first. It's a little disconcerting that you'd point a gun at me, though. I almost regret spending last night with you.”  
“Where's the shipment going?” you demanded. If he knew who you were, then you had nothing to lose. He chuckled.  
“Okay, okay. Give me a second.” He turned towards the case and input its code, opening it up and ruffling through before brandishing a file. “Here we are.” He turned to you again, holding out the file. “Take it.”  
“You...,” you hesitated, slowly plucking the folder from his grasp. He seemed much too pleased with himself to be just giving you what you wanted.  
This was a trick.  
Slowly, you checked the file.  
Nothing.  
Not nothing as in it was empty, but there was no trick. No drug, no explosive, nothing.  
It was just simply the file.  
“Are you trying to figure out why I'm just giving you the information?” Mark asked curiously. You looked up at him suspiciously, making him chuckle yet again. He sat down on the bed next to you. “Well, the shipments aren't mine. They never were. But the man who is shipping them asked me to be a back-up. And I don't like him, nor do I like his drug-smuggling. So, I agreed. And I knew they'd send you to get it from me. So I made up this party, and this is what's become of it.”  
“You're lying,” you said, putting down the folder and going to get up, which you would have if Mark hadn't held you in place.  
“I can't be. You know that, and you're smart enough to know that.” He pulled you a little closer. “And besides, based on your reputation on your Spec. Ops. team, you're very good at getting what you want. And in this case, we both got what we wanted.” You stared at him.  
“I wanted the intel. I don't know what it is you wanted.” He looked your face up and down.  
“I wanted to see you for myself.”


End file.
